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Young Love, a Hickey, Weed and Embarrassment

Dusty, Bear and I were able to hike at the slough Sunday because it was a cool, cloudy day. No hot trail, cool wind blowing so no mosquitoes. We had a great time listening to the birds and appreciating being out.

On the way back, Bear and Dusty alerted me to people at the little seating area at the beginning of the trail. I leashed Dusty since most of the people who go there are walking dogs. Then I saw there were two people and they were headed our way. I took the dogs off the trail so the people could pass without having to interact with the dogs, especially if they had a dog of their own. My dogs are friendly, but Dusty sounds fierce, so I am always cautious.

It was a high school couple. I know this because the boy wore his high school T-Shirt. Both the boy and the girl were shiny and new. They were beautiful. Both were tall and slender, well built. Their faces were smooth and generally everything about them was perfect. They looked like they had just come out of the box marked “New adults.”

They liked the dogs. Dusty especially liked the boy and jumped straight up six feet and kissed him. The boy was calm; I can imagine most people would have freaked out. The girl had a brand new hickey on her neck. They smelled of weed. They asked about the dogs, what kinds they were, and the girl thought Bear was beautiful. Then they walked on and we headed to the car.

I felt for a moment like I’d entered a time slip. 49 years ago on a summer Sunday afternoon I could have been found in a similarly “remote” spot with a high school boy doing similar things (no hickey; I always thought they were unnecessary advertising). No weed, either. I wasn’t “there” yet.

I remember those intense drives that blocked out everything. They were extremely pronounced and equally incomprehensible. Like most New Adults, I felt I’d invented all of that and it was GREAT. I would not say exactly that they fade with time, but experience is a good teacher.

I really loved those kids. I hope their love is happy and, if it ends, it ends in a way that no one is hurt. I hope they have dreams that are worthy and that their dreams come true. I hope when they are my age they are walking together in some spot like that and run into an embarrassed young couple who cannot imagine that the old couple remembers very well what it is to be young. And, far from condemning and judging them, the old people are filled with love and good wishes for the Shiny New Adults.

Naive me not knowing the word hickey, but must be something American, we brits have another word – had to look it up in Google. What a wonderful reflection on the past, makes me feel young again, but am not sure if I want to go through it all again.

Ah, youth. I remember that wild headiness of being in love. I still am in love, but over all the years, love grows up, too. It’s a mature, friendly, comfortable love now. I’m not sure I have the emotional resources for that love again, but I remember it too. The wonderfulness and the awfulness. Ah. Youth.